CIHM 
Microfiche 
Series 
(l\/lonographs) 


ICMH 

Collection  de 
microfiches 
(monographies) 


Canadian  Instituta  for  Hiatorical  Microraproductiona  /  liatitut  Canadian  da  microraproductiont  hiatoriqua 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes  /  Notes  technique  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best  original 
copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this  copy  which 
may  be  bibliographically  unique,  which  may  alter  any  of 
the  images  in  the  reproduction,  or  which  may 
significantly  change  the  usual  method  of  filming  are 
checked  below. 


0 


Coloured  covers  / 
Couverture  de  couleur 


I     I      Covers  damaged  / 

' — I     Couverture  endommagie 

I     I     Covers  restored  and/or  laminated  / 
Couverture  restauree  el/ou  pellicuiee 

I     I      Cover  title  missing  /  Lb  litre  de  couverture  manque 

I     I      Coloured  maps  /  Cartes  geographiques  en  couleur 

r^     Coloured  ink  {i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)  / 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

I     I     CokHired  plates  and/or  illustrations  / 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

I     I      Bound  with  other  material  / 

Relie  avec  d'autres  documents 


D 
D 


D 


Only  edition  available  / 
Seule  edition  disponible 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin  /  La  reliure  senie  peut 
causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la  distorsk>n  le  long  de 
la  marge  interieure. 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoratkms  may  appear 
within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these  have 
been  omitted  from  flming  /  II  se  peul  que  certainss 
pages  blanches  ajouties  kws  d'une  restauration 
apparaissent  dans  le  texte,  mais,  knsque  cela  etalt 
possible,  ces  pages  n'cnt  pas  ete  nmees. 


L'Institut  a  microfilm*  le  meilleur  examplaire  qu'il  iui  a 
6te  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details  de  cet  exem- 
plaire  qui  sont  peut-Stre  uniques  du  point  de  vue  bibli- 
ographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier  une  image  reproduce, 
ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une  modifications  dans  la  m6th- 
ode  normale  de  f  ilmage  sont  indiqu6s  ci-dessous. 

I     I      Coloured  pages/ Pages  de  couleur 

I     I     Pages  damaged/ Pages  endommagees 

I     I     Pages  restored  and/or  laminated  / 
— '     Pages  restaurees  et/ou  pellicuiees 

r^     Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  loxed  / 
Pages  decokirees,  tachetees  ou  piquees 

I     I     Pages  detached  /  Pages  detachees 

rpt     Showthrough  /  Transparence 

I     I     Quality  of  print  varies  / 

' — '      QualUe  inegale  de  I'impression 

I     I     Includes  supplementary  material  / 
—      Comprenddu  materiel  suppiementaire 

I  I  Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image  /  Les  pages 
totalement  ou  partiellement  obscurcies  par  un 
feuillet  d'enata,  une  pelure,  etc.,  ont  ete  fllmees 
k  nouveau  de  fa^on  d  obtenir  la  mellleure 
image  possible. 

I  I  Opposing  pages  with  varying  colouration  or 
discolourations  are  filmed  twk:e  to  ensure  the 
best  possible  image  /  Les  pages  s'opposant 
ayant  des  colorations  variables  ou  des  decol- 
orations sont  fllnv'es  deux  fois  afin  d'obtenir  la 
meilleur  image  possible. 


D 


AddWonal  comments  / 
Commentaires  suppiementaires: 


Thii  inin  it  f  ihntd  at  th*  rtduction  ratio  chaekad  btlow/ 

Ct  docufnant  «t  film*  >u  uux  d«  rMuetion  indiwi*  ei-dtnaiis. 

lOX  14X  liX 


SX 


12X 


1(X 


no: 

20X 


MX 


2IX 


32X 


Th*  copy  filmad  hara  hM  baan  raproducad  thanki 
to  tha  ganaroaity  of: 

National  Library  of  Canada 


Tha  imagaa  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  bast  quality 
peuibia  contidaring  tha  condition  and  lagibiiity 
of  tha  original  copy  and  in  kaoping  with  tha 
filming  conwaot  apocificaliona. 


Original  eopiai  in  printad  papor  eovara  ara  fllmad 
baginning  with  tha  front  covor  and  anding  on 
tha  iai t  paga  with  a  printad  or  illuatratad  impraa- 
sion.  or  tha  back  covar  whan  apprepriata.  All 
othar  original  copioa  ara  filmad  baginning  on  tha 
f  irat  paga  with  a  printad  or  illuatratad  impraa- 
aion,  and  anding  on  tha  laat  paga  with  a  printad 
or  illuatratad  impraaaion. 


Tha  laat  racordad  frama  on  aaeh  microficha 
■hail  conuin  tha  symbol  -^  (moaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  tha  symbol  V  Imaaning  "END"), 
whichavar  appiiaa. 

Mapa.  plataa.  charti,  ate,  may  ba  filmad  at 
diffarant  raduction  ratios.  Thoaa  too  larga  to  ba 
antiraly  includad  in  ona  axposura  ara  filmad 
baginning  in  tha  uppar  laft  hand  eornar.  laft  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  framas  as 
raquirad.  Tha  following  diagrams  illuatrata  tha 
mathod: 


1  2  3 


1 

2 

4 

5 

L'M«mplair*  film*  fut  raproduil  grin  i  !■ 
giniroiiU  da: 

Bibllothiqu*  national*  du  Canad.i 


Lat  imagat  tuivantai  ont  ttt  raproduita*  avac  la 
plua  grand  toin.  compta  tanu  da  la  eondiiien  at 
da  la  nanata  da  Taaamplaira  filma.  at  an 
confermita  avac  laa  eonditiona  du  eontrat  da 
filmaga. 

Laa  aaamplairaa  originaux  dont  la  couvartura  an 
papiar  aat  ImprinKaa  aont  filmas  an  commandant 
par  la  pramiar  plat  at  an  tarminant  toit  par  la 
darnMra  paga  qui  comporta  una  amprainta 
d'impraaaion  ou  d'illuatration.  soit  par  la  lacond 
plat,  aalon  la  eaa.  Toua  laa  autraa  axamplairat 
originaux  tont  filmta  an  commandant  par  la 
pramitra  paga  qui  compona  una  amprainta 
d'impraaaion  ou  d'illuatration  at  an  tarminant  par 
la  damitra  paga  qui  comporta  una  taila 
amprainta. 

Un  daa  aymbolaa  auivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
darniAra  imaga  da  chaqua  microficha.  aalon  la 
caa:  la  aymbola  ^  lignifia  "A  SUIVRE".  la 
aymbola  V  aignifia  "FIN". 

Laa  cariaa.  planchaa.  ubiaaux.  ate.  pauvant  itra 
filmaa  a  daa  Uux  da  raduetion  ditfaranti. 
Loraqua  la  documant  aat  trop  grand  pour  itra 
raproduit  an  un  aaul  clicha.  il  aat  film*  t  panir 
da  I'angia  aupariaur  gaucha.  da  gaucha  i  droita. 
at  da  haul  an  baa,  an  pranant  la  nombra 
d'imagaa  nacaaaaira.  Laa  diagrammaa  auivant* 
illuatrant  la  mathoda. 


2 

3 

5 

6 

MiaOCOfY   tKMUTWN   TIST  CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


miL^i^ 


^  x^PPLIED  IMHGE     Inc 

^^  1653  eosl   Main  Street 

=",2  RochMtir,    Nvw  York         14609       USA 

^^  (716)  482  -  OJOO  -  Phone 

a^  (716)   288  -  5989  ~  Fax 


The  xivirjj  Ridtr 

and  Otf^^r  Poems 
by  Bliss  Carmam 


Th^  Rough  Rider 
and  Other  Poems 


By  thi  Same  Author 

In  Versi 
Pipti  •/  Pan 

Sappkt :   0„,  Hundrtd  Ljriti 
Sngifirtm   Vagaitmtia 
CtllttUJ  Pom, 

In  Pnu 

Thi  Making  tf  Ptrionality 
Tht  Kintkip  rf  Nature 
The  FrienJthip  tf  Art 
The  Peetry  of  Ufe 


The  Rough  Rider 

and  Other  Poems 


h 
Bliss  Carman 


/(:. 


NEW  YORK 

MITCHELL  KENNERLEY 

MCMIX 


^-  ^     •'  K(3  Cpyright  1909  h  MitMl  Lnmrhy     ^ 


To 
Theod$re  Roosevelt 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 
3 

7 

12 

l6 
20 
»3 


THE  ANGELS  OF  MAN 

THE  RODGH   RIDER     ..... 

THE  SPIRIT  IN  ARMS      .... 

THE  PURITAN   CAPTAIN 

A  NEW  ENGLAND  THANKSGIVING 

k  gold  lacquer 

memorial  day 

♦ecoration  day *' 

fr.  MICHAEL'S   STAR  " 

Raster  eve '' 

<ESURGAM '* 

4t  THE  MAKING  OF  MAN           " 

«)N  PONUS  RIDGE     ....!. *' 

"iHE  MAN  OF  PEACE                       ** 

•llAMPLAIN '* 

?E  GOLDEN  WEST " 

E  GATE  OF  PEACE     . *' 

HE  TWELFTH-NIGHT   STAR *I 

7» 


THE  ANGELS  OF  MAN 

THE  word  of  the  Lord  of  the  outer  worlds 
Went  forth  on  the  deeps  of  space, 
1  liat  Michael,  Gabriel,  Rafael, 
Should  stand  before  his  face. 
The  seraphs  of  his  threefold  will. 
Each  in  his  ordered  place. 

Brave  Michael,  the  right  hand  of  God, 
Strong  Gabriel,  his  voice, 
Fair  Rafael,  his  holy  breath 
That  makes  the  world  rejo-re, — 
Archangels  of  omnipotence. 
Of  knowledge,  and  of  choice ; 

Michael,  angel  of  loveliness 
In  all  things  that  survive, 
And  Gabriel,  whose  part  it  is 
To  ponder  and  contrive. 
And  Rafael,  who  puts  the  heart 
In  every  thing  alive. 

Came  Rafael,  the  enraptured  soul, 
Stainless  as  wind  or  fire. 
The  urge  within  the  flux  of  things, 
The  life  that  must  aspire. 
With  whom  is  the  beginning. 
The  worth,  and  the  desire ; 
3 


THE  ANGELS  OF  MAN 

And  Gabriel,  the  all-seeing  mind. 
Bringer  of  truth  and  light, 
Who  lay,  the  courses  of  the  stars 
In  their  stupendous  flight, 
And  calls  the  migrant  flocb  of  spring 
Across  the  purple  night; 

And  Michael,  the  artificer 
Of  beauty,  shape,  and  hue, 
Lord  of  the  forges  of  the  sun, 
The  crucible  of  the  dew, 

t^  •'">"  °f  'he  plowing  rain 
When  the  flowers  are  bom  anew. 

Then  said  the  Lord:  "Ye  shall  account 
*or  the  mmistry  ye  hold 

Since  ye  have  been  my  sons  to  keep 
My  purpose  from  of  old 
How  fare  the  realms  within  your  sway 
10  perfections  still  untold?  " 

Answered  each  as  he  had  the  word. 
And  a  great  silence  fell 

On  all  the  listening  hosts  of  heaven 
I  o  hear  their  captains  tell  — 

With  the  breath  of  the  wind,  the  call  of  a  bird 
And  the  cry  of  a  mighty  bell. 


THE  ANGELS  OF  MAN 

Then  the  Lord  said :  "  The  time  is  ripe 

For  finishing  my  plan, 

And  the  accomplishment  of  that 

For  which  all  time  began. 

Therefore  on  you  is  laid  the  task 

Of  the  fashioning  of  man ; 

"  In  your  own  likeness  shall  he  be, 
Tk  triumph  in  the  end. 
I  only  give  him  Michael's  strength 
To  guard  him  and  defend, 
With  Gabriel  to  be  his  guide, 
And  Rafael  his  friend. 


"  Ve  shall  go  forth  upon  the  earth, 
And  make  there  Paradise, 
And  be  the  angels  of  that  place 
To  make  men  glad  and  wise. 
With  loving.kindness  in  their  hearts. 
And  knowledge  in  their  eyes. 

"  And  ye  shall  be  man's  counselors 
That  neither  rest  nor  sleep. 
To  cheer  the  lonely,  lift  the  frail, 
And  solace  them  that  weep. 
And  ever  on  his  wandering  trail 
Your  watch-fires  ye  shall  keep; 
5 


THE  ANGELS  OF  MAN 

"Till  in  the  far  years  he  ihall  find 
i  he  country  of  hit  quest, 
The  empire  of  the  open  truth, 
fne  vision  of  the  best, 
Forween  by  every  mother  saint 
With  her  new-born  on  her  breast." 


THE   ROUGH   RIDER 

TpHERE  lift  the  peaks  of  purple, 

*        Where  dip  the  dusty  trails, 
Where  Bieamlnn,  teeming  cities 
Lie  linked  b>  shining  rails, 
By  shadow-haunted  camp-fire, 
Beneath  the  great  white  dome. 
In  saddle  and  in  council 
Intrepid  and  at  home, 

Who  is  the  hardy  figure 
Of  virile  fighting  strain. 
With  valor  and  conviction 
In  heart,  and  hand,  and  brain  ? 
Sprung  from  our  old  ideals 
To  serve  our  later  needs, 
He  is  the  modern  Roundhead, 
The  man  who  rides  and  reads. 


No  pomp  of  braid  and  feathers. 
No  flash  of  burnished  gear, 
He  wears  the  plainsman's  outfit 
Sufficient  and  severe. 
With  no  imperial  chevron 
Upon  his  khaki  sleeve. 
He  thinks  by  no  made  doctrine. 
He  speaks  by  no  man's  leave. 

7 


THE  ROUGH   RIDER 

The  breed  Md  creed  ,nd  .choolinj 
Of  Harvard  ,nd  the  pl«n.. 
iix  hundred  ye.„  of  fighting 
*or  freedom  in  his  veins, 
Let  no  one  think  to  wheedle, 
i°  '"'y-  coerce,  nor  cheat, 
tr  •"■"  "''"'  'oves  the  open, 
i  he  man  who  Knows  the  street. 

He  ride,  not  for  vain  glory, 
«e  fights  not  for  low  gain 
But  that  the  range  of  fr«;dom 
Unravaged  shall  remain. 
As  plain  as  Bible  language 
And  open  as  the  day, 
He  challenges  injustice. 
And  bids  corruption  stay. 

Take  up,  who  will,  the  challenge; 

Stand  pat  on  graft  and  greed . • 
5^'°":  »'«k  on  others' labor, 
Surfeit  on  others'  need- 

{^t  paid  and  bloodless  tricksters 
"evise  a  legal  way 

Our  common  right  and  justice 
'  o  sell,  deny,  delay." 
8 


THE   ROUGH   RIDER 

Not  yesterday  nor  lightly 
We  came  to  know  that  breed  ; 
Our  quarrel  with  that  cunning 
li  old  ai  Runnymede. 
We  saw  enfranchised  insult 
Deploy  in  kingly  line, 
When  broke  our  sullen  fury 
On  Rupert  of  the  Rhine. 


At  Newbury  and  Worcester, 
Edgehill  and  Marston  Moor, 
We  got  the  stubborn  courage 
To  dare  and  to  rndure. 
From  Ireton  and  Cromwell 
We  learned  the  sword  and  rein  ; 
'  Free  speech  by  truth  made  fearless, 
From  Hampden,  Pym,  and  Vane. 

A  thousand  years  in  peril. 

By  privilege  oppressed. 

With  loss  beyond  requit?l. 

Unflinching  in  our  quest. 

We  sought  and  bought  our  freedom 

And  bore  it  oversea; 

To  keep  it  still  unblighted, 

We  rode  with  Grant  and  Lee. 


THE   ROUGH   RIDER 

Now,  masking  raid  and  rapine 
In  debonair  disguise, 
The  foe  we  thought  defeated 
Deludes  our  careless  eyes, 
Entrenched  in  law  and  largess 
And  the  vested  wrong  of  things, 
Cloaking  a  fouler  treason 
Than  any  faithless  king's. 

He  takes  our  life  for  wages, 
He  holds  our  land  for  rent,' 
He  sweats  our  little  children 
To  swell  his  cent  per  cent; 
With  secret  grip  and  levy  ' 
On  every  crumb  we  eat. 
He  drives  our  sons  to  thieving, 
Our  daughters  to  the  street. 

He  lightly  sells  his  honor. 
He  boldly  shames  our  pride. 

And  makes  our  cause  a  scLndal 

For  the  nations  to  deride. 

Socrafty,  yet  so  craven! 

One  whisper  through  the  mart 

Can  send  him  to  his  coffers 

With  panic  in  his  heart. 

10 


THE   ROUGH   RIDER 

With  no  such  feeble  rancor 
As  envy  moves  to  hate, 
No  ignorant  detraction 
Of  goodly  things  and  great. 
But  with  the  wrath  unbridled 
Of  patriots  betrayed, — 
Of  workers  duped  by  brokers. 
Of  brothers  unafraid, — 


Against  the  grim  defenses 
Where  might  and  murrain  hide. 
Unswerving  to  the  issue 
Loose-reined  and  rough  we  ride 
Full  tardily,  to  rescue 
Our  heritage  from  wrong, 
And  stablish  it  on  manhood, 
A  thousand  times  more  strong. 


Comes  now  the  fearless  Message, 
The  leader,  and  the  time 
For  every  man  to  muster 
For  honor  or  for  crime. 
Who  would  not  ride  beside  him 
Into  the  toughest  fight — 
For  freedom,  the  republic, 
And  everlasting  right! 
II 


THE    SPIRIT   IN    ARMS 
(an  incident  of  1675) 
'II/'HEN  the  just  ire  of  England 

Arose  in  daring  might 
Against  the  perfidious  Stuart, 
To  uphold  a  diviner  right, 
"Let  kings  learn,"  said  her  Commons, 

i  heir  duty  once  for  all," 
And  sent  the  Lord's  anointed 
To  the  headsman  of  Whitehall. 

But  strange  are  the  shifts  for  freedom. 

Heavy  tradition's  hand, 

And  the  days  of  the  avenger 

Were  not  long  in  the  land. 

No  sooner  another  Stuart 

Was  safe  on  the  throne  once  more, 

Than  his  father's  judges  were  outlawed, 

Hunted  from  door  to  door. 

Two  oversea  for  safety 
To  wild  New  England  fled. 
To  haunt  her  forest  borders. 
With  a  price  upon  each  head. 
Harried  from  hiding  to  hiding. 
Eating  their  bread  in  haste, 
By  many  a  hearth  and  camp-fire 
Their  unresting  trail  was  traced. 
12 


THE    SPIRIT   IN    ARMS 
To-day  in  sleepy  Hadley, 
In  its  wide,  green-shaded  street, 
They  will  point  you  out  a  dwelling 
Was  the  regicides'  retreat. 
Here  between  ranks  of  homesteads 
Their  public  common  was  made 
For  pasture  ai     pleasure,  protected 
From  Indian  pillage  and  raid. 


Deep  in  the  seeding  grasses 
The  arching  elm  trees  stand, 
Under  the  blue  of  August, 
With  peace  over  all  the  land. 

On  such  a  day  in  summer 

Seasons  and  seasons  ago. 

On  this  lovely  Puritan  haven 

Descended  the  stealthy  foe. 

The  people  were  all  at  worship, 
When  a  sudden  fiendish  yell 
Broke  on  the  fast-day  stiUness; 
They  knew  what  it  meant  full  well. 
Forth  rushed  the  men  from  the  meeting 
(Armed  were  they  always  then), 
To  find  their  quiet  Main  Street 
Swarming  with  painted  men. 
13 


THE    SPIRIT   IN    ARMS 

Trapped,  for  the  instant  panic 

Unmanning  the  stoutest  there, 

Drove  them  back  to  the  doorway; 

Disaster  was  in  the  air. 

They  saw  their  wives  and  children 

Given  to  Icnife  and  brand. 

And  the  blood  ran  back  for  a  moment 

From  every  hardy  hand. 

Mazed  by  the  din  and  horror. 
Stampeded  by  savage  war, 
Where  was  the  spirit  that  triumphed 
At  Naseby  and  Dunbar? 
Suddenly  there  before  them. 
Taking  command,  was  seen 
A  thrilling  resolute  presence, 
With  heroic  right  in  his  mien. 


At  the  call  of  that  confident  leader 

Their  sickened  hearts  grew  bold. 

And  they  thought  how  the  Lord  had  smitten 

The  Midianites  of  old. 

Then  did  the  Puritan  spirit 

Come  back  to  them  where  they  stood, 

And  they  fell  on  the  shrieking  Nipmucks 

And  drove  them  back  to  the  wood. 

14 


THE   SPIRIT   IN    ARMS 

But  when  the  rout  was  over, 

Ere  the  sweat  was  wiped  away 

From  the  tanned  and  toil-worn  faces 

In  thankfulness  that  day, 

They  turned  to  behold  the  stranger 

Who  had  saved  them  from  worse  than  death. 

And  the  spirit  in  arms  had  vanished, 

He  had  come  and  gone  like  a  breath. 


Had  they  but  looked  on  a  vision  ? 

Or,  seeing  them  too  sore  tried, 

Had  the  Lord  sent  His  angel  among  them? 

It  was  Gofle  the  regicide. 

He  had  seen  frou  his  place  of  hiding 

The  redskins  creeping  down. 

Malignant  shapes  in  the  shadows, 

On  the  unoffending  town. 


And  quick  to  the  call  of  outrage, 
He  who  could  have  no  part 
In  the  open  life  of  his  fellows 
Had  come  to  strengthen  their  heart. 
The  intrepid  soldier  of  justice 
Once  more  had  unsheathed  his  sword 
To  defend  the  rights  of  a  people. 
Ere  he  passed  to  the  great  award. 

15 


THE    PURITAN    CAPTAIN 

T  SAW  in  Newtowne  lately  a  vision  of  the  Spring,— 
•*■     The  glory  of  New  England  come  back  with  blade 

and  wing. 
First  came  the  sturdy  willows,  in  coats  of  greenish  grey 
They  marched  beside  the  river  in  jubilant  array; 
And  then  along  the  roadsides  where  whitening  orchards 

lean. 
The  pomp  of  golden  hedges,  with  baimerings  of  green ; 
In  deepest  garden  corners,  bringing  the  wildwood  near, 
I  saw  the  mystic  trillium  and  the  violet  appear. 

The  far-off  woodlands  floated  a  mist  of  greyish  blue, 
With  here  and  there    he  sanguine  of  maples  showing 

through, — 
The  careless  tinge  of  valor,  the  tatters  of  romance, 
Inwoven  in  the  habit  of  sober  circumstance. 
Through  Craigie  Street  and  Brattle  the  lilacs  brushed 

the  eaves, 
Old  gables  stood  transfigured  in  the  miracle  of  leaves. 
And  where  I  passed  at  sundown  under  the  twilight  star, 
Musing  of  those  dead  people  w  .0  made  us  what  we  are, 


From  a  colonial  doorway,  bi  sss-knockered,  prim  and  white. 
Stepped  forth  a  valiant  figure,  and  in  the  uncertain  light 
Came  down   the  sanded   footpath  with   free   imperious 

stride. 
His  classic  cloak  about  him,  his  good  sword  at  his  side, 
16 


THE   PURITAN    CAPTAIN 

Uncompromising  purpose  in  every  move  and  line, 

And  in  the  clean-bred  features  a  temper  proud  and  fine. 

His  belted  coat  was  homespun,  his  hat  was  steeple- 
crowned  ; 

He  walked  and  looked  about  him  as  one  who  makes  a 
round. 

A  touch  of  old-world  breeding  both  gracious  and  austere 
In  habit  and  deportment  held  me  as  he  drew  near. 
''  Good  evening.  Sir,"  he  greeted  the  stranger  passing  by, 
"  It  is  a  pleasant  evening."    "  It  is,  indeed,"  said  I. 
At  once  his  kindly  manner  had  put  me  at  my  ease; 
And  as  he  stood  there  under  the  arch  of  lilac  trees 
Smiling  at  my  amazement,  I  felt  a  kinship  rise 
To  meet  the  thoughtful  forehead,  droll  mouth,  and  fear- 
less eyes. 


My  heart  warmed  of  a  sudden  with  deep  ancestral  fires. 
Here  were  the  very  features  and  fervor  of  my  sires. 
He  calmly  spoke,  this  Pilgrim,  half  soldier,  half  divine. 
Beneath  whose  grim  demeanor  I  knew  the  soul  benign. 
"  So  God's  eternal  springtime  comes  back  to  earth  once 

more, 
His  messenger  of  beauty  to  each  New  England  door. 
Rejoice  ye  in  that  message!    I  long  ago  but  heard 
Stem  oracles  of  goodness,  high  callings  of  the  word. 
17 


THE   PURITAN    CAPTAIN 

"  I  did  not  break  Charles  Stuart,  to  let  the  godless  rule. 
I  did  not  raise  up  Cromwell,  to  tolerate  the  fool. 
And  I  who  fronted  Andros  the  tyrant  in  Cornhill 
And  sent  him  back  to  cover,  am  with  my  people  still. 
Long,  long  I  fought  and  suffered  the  blight  of  heinous 

things, — 
The  insolence  of  priesthoods,  the  arrogance  of  kings. 
Against    uncurbed   oppression    I    drove    with    pike    and 

sword ; 
And  in  the  cry  for  justice  I  knew  my  spirit's  Lord. 

"  I  did  not  stop  to  quibble  upon  the  path  I  chose. 
When  came  the  need  for  freedom,  in  freedom's  name  I 

rose, 
To  champion  ideals  that  save  the  world  to-day. 
Though  men  account  me  nothing,  m.'  strength  shall  be 

their  stay. 
But  while  among  my  people,  made  strong  in  peace,  I  find 
Those  things  for  which  I  battled,  clean  life  and  open 

mir.d, 
I  miss  the  one  fine  treasure  for  which  the  heathen  strove. 
The  light  of  happy  faces  made  luminous  with  love. 

"  For  I  who  fought  so  fiercely  in  my  relentless  youth 
For  righteousness  of  conduct,  have  come  to  know  this 

truth: 
Ye  cannot  free  man's  spirit  and  leave  his  senses  bound, 
Nor  leave  unused  in  heaven  the  joyance  of  the  ground. 
i8 


THE   PURITAN    CAPTAIN 

Ye  shall  forego  not,  therefore,  the  magic  of  the  spring. 
Nor  miss  one  pang  of  rapture  the  pagan  year  can  bring; 
But  build  the  fairer  wisdom  that  shall  emerge  at  length 
Into  immortal  manhood,  whose  joy  shall  be  its  strength. 

"  Strive  on ;  still  waits  perfection ;  the  good  fight  is  not 
done, 

Though  we  have  stretched  our  borders  into  the  setting 
sun. 

Mistake  not  great  possessions  nor  might  of  hand  and 
brain 

For  hostages  of  gladness;  seek  first  the  surer  gain, — 

The  lightsome  heart  and  sweetness  that  to  the  spring  be- 
long, 

The  shine  on  dappled  waters  that  move  both  deep  and 
strong." 

I  glanced  round  as  he  pointed  to  where  the  river  shone. 

And  when  I  turned  to  question  him  further,  he  was  gone. 


19 


J  NEW  ENGLAND   THANKSGIVING 

TT  is  the  mellow  season 

*■     When  gold  enchantment  lies 

On  stream  and  road  and  woodland, 

To  gladden  soul's  surmise. 

The  little  old  grey  homesteads 

Are  quiet  as  can  be, 

Among  their  stone-fenced  orchards 

And  meadows  by  the  sea. 

Here  lived  the  men  who  gave  us 
The  purpose  that  holds  fast, 
The  dream  that  nerves  endeavor. 
The  gloiy  that  shall  last. 
Here  strong  as  pines  in  winter 
And  free  as  ripening  corn, 
Our  faith  in  fair  ideals — 
Our  fathers'  faith — was  born. 


Here  shone  through  simple  living. 
With  pride  in  word  and  deed, 
And  consciences  of  granite, 
The  old  New  England  breed. 
With  souls  assayed  by  hardship. 
Illumined,  self-possessed, 
Strongly  they  lived,  and  left  us 
Their  passion  for  the  best. 

ao 


A   NEW  ENGLAND   THANKSGIVING 

On  trails  that  cut  the  sunset, 
Above  the  last  divide, 
The  vision  has  not  vanished, 
The  whisper  has  not  died. 
From  Shasta  to  Katahdin, 
Blue  Hill  to  Smoky  Ridge, 
Still  stand  the  just  convictions 
That  stood  at  Concord  Bridge. 

Beneath  our  gilded  revel, 
Behind  our  ardent  boast. 
Above  our  young  impatience 
To  value  least  and  most, 
Sure  as  the  swinging  compass 
To  serve  at  touch  of  need, 
Square  to  the  world's  four  corners, 
Abides  their  fearless  creed. 


Still  fired  with  wonder-working, 
Intolerant  of  peers. 
Impetuous  and  sanguine 
After  the  hundred  years. 
In  likeness  to  our  fathers, 
Beyond  the  safe-marked  scope 
Of  reason  and  decorum, 
We  jest  and  dare  and  hope. 
31 


^  NEH^  ENGLAND   THANKSGIVINO 


Th«,k  we  the  Blood  th«  bred  ui. 
Clear  fibre  and  dean  «nu„_ 

rhe  Truth  which, .traightly  ,ighted 
i-ets  no  one  swerve  again. 
And  may  almighty  Goodniss 
Give  U9  the  will  to  be 
As  sweet  as  upland  pastures, 
And  strong  as  wind  at  sea. 


33 


IN  GOLD  LACQVER 

/^OLD  are  the  great  tree,  overhead, 
^     And  gold  the  leaf-strewn  grass, 
As  though  a  cloth  of  gold  were  spread 
To  let  a  seraph  pass. 
And  where  the  pageant  should  go  by. 
Meadow  and  wood  and  stream, 
The  world  is  all  of  lacquered  gold, 
Expectant  as  a  dream. 


Against  the  sunset's  burning  gold. 

Etched  in  dark  monotone 

Behind  its  alley  of  grey  trees 

And  gateposts  of  grey  stone. 

Stands  the  Old  Man,e,  about  whose  eaves 

An  air  of  mystery  clings. 

Abandoned  to  the  lonely  peace 

Of  bygone  ghostly  things. 

In  molten  gold  the  river  winds 

With  languid  sweep  and  turn, 

''•^side  the  red-gold  wooded  hill 

Yellowed  with  ash  and  fern. 

The  streets  are  tiled  ,,ith  gold-green  shade 

And  arched  with  fretted  gold, 

Ecstatic  aisles  that  richly  thread 

This  minster  grim  and  old. 

33 


IN  GOLD   LACQUER 

The  air  is  flecked  with  filtered  gold,— 

The  shimmer  of  romance 

Whose  ageless  glamour  still  must  hold 

The  world  as  in  a  trance, 

Pouring  o'er  every  time  and  place 

Light  of  an  amber  sea, 

The  spell  of  all  the  gladsome  things 

That  have  been  or  shall  be. 


MEMORIAL    D  '  > 


(new   ENGLAND) 


/^NCE  more  over  relics  of  winter  the  willows  all  gold 
^-^     Wave  odorous  plumes  of  enchantment,  the  fern- 
heads  unfold 
In  forgotten  places,  as  fresh  as  when  Pan  long  ago 
Might  pass  through  the  bird-haunted  woodlands,  or  linger 

to  blow 
On  his  pure  keen  pipe  by  the  river.    The  wild  cherry 

bough 
Is  robed  for  the  white  celebration  of  memory  now. 
Old  orchards  a  maze  of   pink-white  with  black  stems 

showing  through, 
Swamp  alder  and  hill-loving  birch  all  betasseled  anew, 
And  ruddy  wing-flowering  maples, — the  year  is  abloom, 
Each  dooryard  a  heaven  of  lilac,  each  breeze  a  perfume. 
And  hark  to  the  small  yellow  warbler  uplifting  his  voice, 
So  serene,  so  intense,  so  unstifled!     Who  could  not  re- 
joice 
With  the  splendid  oncoming  of  glory?    Tall  beech  trees 

are  crowned; 
Blue  violets  spring  under  foot  in  the  magical  ground ; 
And  at  twilight  the  frogs  will  fife  up  one  by  one  till  they 

fill 
The  whole  dome  of  dusk  with  their  choral  triumphant, 

to  thrill 

25 


MEMORIAL    DAY 

And  transmute  to  an  impulse  of  gladness  tlie  sob  in  each 

throat; 
As  we  with  proud-spirited  music  help,  too,  to  denote 
And  enhance  the  beneficent  wonder,  the  power  of  earth 
At  her  sorcery  still,  bringing  ever  new  triumphs  to  birth 
For   the   battle-bruised   soul,   the   supreme  one,   desiring 

nought 
Save  that  always  her  truest  and  goodliest  dreams  should 

be  wrought 
Into  loveliness  out  of  this  life-stuff. 

So  all  things  alive. 
Birds  and  wmds  and  the  sensitive  flowers,  persist  and 

survive 
With  joy  unabated,  with  banners  unstruck  to  the  frost. 
To  remind  us  no  beauty  can  perish,  no  effort  be  lost  ' 
No  ardor  diminished  forever,  nor  purpose  lack  room 
To  accomplish  its  utmost  ideal!    As  all  things  resume 
The>r  unfulfilled  tasks  of  perfection,  each  after  its  need, 
bhall  the  heart  cease  from  longing,  the  mind  from  its 

loftiest  creed. 
Or  the  senses  refuse  their  due  service?   Behold  we  arise 
From  failure,  mistake,  and  regret,  putting  on  the  fresh 

guise 
Of  a  use  no  disaster  can  ruin,  the  ultimate  test 
When  endeavor  shall  gain  all  it  dreamed  of  the  infinite 
best, — 


26 


MEMORIAL    DAY 

The  little-regarded  and  common  made  great  and  sublime, 
The  eternal  arrested  and  fashioned  in  space  and  in  time. 

Then   sound   a  new   note   on   the   bugles,   unmuffle   the 
drums. 

Sing  hymns  of  exulting,  proud  thanks  for  the  uplift  that 
comes 

From  the  thought  of  our  heroes,  resurging  like  sap  in  the 
bough 

Through    hearts   sorrow-hardened   and   faint,   but   rehu- 

manized  now 
By  the  hand-clasp  and  rally  of  loved  ones  for  whom  we 

in  trust 
Hold  sacred  ideals  bequeathed  us  from  out  of  the  dust 
Of  battle  fields  holy.    And  keep  we  unfettered  and  fine 
The  faith  which  sustained  our  strong  brothers  that  truth 

the  divine 
Shall  unfurl  her  peace  colors,  triumphant  as  blossom  and 

spray. 

Bedecking  the  earth  with  fresh  gladness,  and  generous 
as  they. 


27 


DECORATION  DAY 

(the   CAPITOL,   WEST   FRONT) 

CTAND  here  in  the  shadow  of  the  Capitol, 
^     And  let  your  eyes  range  down  across  the  city, 
Where  marble  buildings  rise  out  of  a  sea 
Of  tree-tops,  and  the  Monument  floats  up 
All  rose  and  lilac  in  the  morning  light, 
A  thing  of  magic  by  the  Potomac  shore. 

Across  the  river  on  the  wooded  bank 

Where  that  colonial  portico  gleams  white, 

Is  the  nation's  hallowed  ground, — their  resting-place 

Who  gave  their  lives  up  gladly  for  the  truth. 

Each,  as  he  deemed,  a  soldier  of  the  right, 

Impassioned  by  the  justice  of  his  cause. 

And  hark,  above  the  car-bells  and  the  cries, 

A  band  is  playing  I    Troops  are  on  the  move. 

Far  down  the  Avenue  a  column  wheels 

To  pass  the  pillared  Treasury,  on  the  way 

To  honor  its  dead  heroes  sleeping  there 

On  the  heights  of  Arlington  ten  thousand  strong. 


There  rests  my  old  friend  in  his  soldier's  grave, — 
Old  grim  idealist  with  the  tender  heart, 
The  grizzled  head,  grey  eye,  and  scanty  speech, 
28 


DECORATION  DAY 

And  hand  that  never  faltered  in  the  fight 
Through  all  the  rough  work  of  a  long  campaign. 
God  keep  you,  General,  with  the  heroes  gone! 

In  many  a  place  through  all  the  land  to-day, 

Mourners  will  come,  and  with  hands  full  of  flowers 

Pay  loving  honor  to  the  valiant  dead 

Who  gave  their  last  breath  for  the  cause  they  lo^■ed, 

For  liberty  and  justice,  and  flinched  not 

To  pay  the  utmost  for  their  noble  dream. 


And  you,  O  fond  and  unforgetful  ones 

Who  have  no  g-jve  to  tend  for  all  your  loss. 

No  sacred  spot  whereat  your  love  may  kneel,' 

But  must  in  silence  let  the  proud  tears  spring. 

Keeping  the  lonely  vigil  of  the  heart, 

While  the  flags  flutter  and  the  dead-march  plays; 


Behold  for  you  the  consolin^i  rain  shall  fall 
In  odorous  assuaging  woodland  showers. 
And  wild  wood.flowers  spring  up  to  deck  the  ground 
Wherever  early  summer  passes  now; 
And  in  far  valleys  where  no  bugles  peal 
Shy  birds  will  sing  their  requiems  for  your  dead. 
29 


DECORATIOS   DAY 

Therefore,  take  courage,  seeing  all  natural  things 
Are  not  left  desolate,  but  lovely  earth 
Transmutes  each  scar  and  sorrow  to  her  gain, 
And  from  the  flux  of  time  and  growth  renews 
Her  seasons  of  indomitable  joy. 
And  breeds  new  beauty  each  reviving  year. 

Let  us  too  live  with  gladness,  and  become 
A  part  cf  that  which  never  can  be  lost. 
But  must  be  inerged  forever  with  new  power, 
'  The  urge,  the  aspiration,  and  the  gleam, — 
All  that  is  infinite  and  divine  in  man. 
The  eternal  rescued  from  mortality. 

Let  us  not  doubt,  but  with  an  unvexed  mind 

Bring  truth  to  pass  with  beauty  and  with  good. 

One  and  sufficient  in  the  last  event. 

The  work  made  perfect  by  the  loving  hand, 

The  fair  ideal  translated  into  fact; 

And  heaven  can  not  be  far  from  this  our  world. 

And  so  we  turn  from  memory  to-day 
To  the  fresh  tasks,  splendid  heroic  toil. 
Triumphs  of  knowledge  and  beneficence, 
And  victories  unblemished  by  regret; 
With  the  untroubled  confidence  of  strength 
We  go  to  build  the  commonwealth  of  peace. 
30 


ST.  MICHAEL'S  STAR 
(a  hymn  for  labo.<  day) 
TN  the  pure  solitude  of  dusk 

One  star  is  set  to  shine 
Above  the  sundown's  dying  rose, 
A  lamp  before  a  shrine. 
It  is  the  star  of  Michael  lit 
In  the  minster  of  the  sun, 
That  every  toiling  hand  may  give 
Thanks  for  the  day's  work  done. 

For  when  the  almighty  word  went  forth 

To  bid  creation  be, — 

The  glimmering  star-tracks  on  the  blue. 

The  tide-belts  on  the  sea, — 

Perfect  as  planned,  from  Michael's  hand 

The  lasting  hills  arose, 

Their  bases  on  the  poppied  plain, 

Their  peaks  in  bannered  snows. 

Cedar  and  thorn  and  oak  were  bom; 
Green  fiddleheads  uncurled 
In  the  spring  woods;  gold  addertongues 
Came  forth  to  glad  the  world;— 
The  magic  of  the  punctual  seeds. 
Each  with  its  pregnant  powers, 
As  the  lord  Michael  fashioned  them 
To  keep  their  days  and  hours. 
31 


ST.  MICHAEL'S  STJR 

Frail  fins  to  ride  the  monstrous  tide, 

Soft  wings  to  poise  and  gleam, 

He  formed  the  pageant  tribe  by  tribe 

As  vivid  as  a  dream. 

And  still  must  his  beneficence 

Renew,  create,  sustain. 

The  sorcery  of  the  wind  and  sun, 

The  alchemy  of  the  rain. 

Teeming  with  God,  the  kindly  sod 

Yearns  through  the  summer  days 

With  the  mute  eloquence  of  flowers. 

Its  only  means  of  praise. 

At  dusk  and  dawn  the  tranquil  hills 

Throb  to  the  song  of  birds, 

And  all  the  dim  blue  silence  thrills 

To  transport  not  of  words. 

For  earth  must  breed  to  spirit's  need, 

Clay  to  the  finer  clay, 

That  soul  through  sense  find  recompense 

And  rapture  on  her  way. 

And  man,  from  dust  and  dreaming  wrought, 

To  all  things  must  impart 

The  trend  and  likeness  of  his  thought. 

The  passion  of  his  heart. 

33 


ST.  MICHAEL'S  STAR 

The  love  and  lore  he  shall  acquire 
To  word  and  deed  must  dare; 
Resemblances  of  God  his  sire 
His  voice  and  mien  must  bear. 
His  children's  children  shall  portray 
The  skill  which  he  bestows 
On  living;  and  what  life  must  mean 
His  craftsman's  instinct  knows. 

Line  upon  line  and  tone  by  tone, 

The  visioned  form  he  gives 

To  sound  and  color,  wood  and  stone, 

Takes  loveliness  and  lives. 

He  sees  his  project's  soaring  hope 

Grow  substance,  and  expand 

To  measure  a  diviner  scope 

Beneath  his  patient  hand. 


To  pencil,  brush,  and  burnisher 

His  wizardry  he  lends. 

And  to  the  care  of  lathe  and  loom 

His  secret  he  commends. 

In  hues  and  forms  and  cadences 

New  beauty  he  instills, 

A  brother  by  the  right  of  craft 

To  Michael  of  the  hills. 

33 


EASTER  EVE 

JF  I  should  tell  you  I  «w  Pan  lately  down  by  the 

shallows  of  Silvermine, 
Blowing  an  air  on  hi,  pipe  of  wilhw.  just  as  the  moon 

began  to  shine; 
Or  say  that,  coming  from  town  on  Wednesday,  I  met 

Christ  walking  in  Ponus  Street- 
^ou  might  remark,  "Our  friend  is  flighty!    Visions,  for 

want  of  enough  red  meat !  " 

Then  let  me  ask  you.     Last  December,  when  there  was 

skatmg  on  Wampanaw, 
Among  the  weeds  and  sticks  .  ri  grasses  under  the  hard 

black  ice  I  saw 
An  old  mud-turtle  poking  about,  as  if  he  were  putting 

his  house  to  rights. 
Stiff  with  the  cold  perhaps,  yet  knowing  enough  to  pre- 

pare  for  the  winter  nights. 

And  here  he  is  on  .  log  this  morning,  sunning  himself  as 

calm  as  you  please. 
But  I  want  to  know,  when  -he  lock  of  winter  was  sprung 

of  a  sudden,  who  kept  the  keys? 
Who  told  old  nibbler  to  go  to  sleep  safe  and  sound  v..>h 

the  lily  roots, 
And  then  in  the  first  warm  days  of  April-out  to  the 

sun  with  the  greening  shoots? 

34 


EASTER  EVE 

By  night  a  flock  of  geese  neiit  over,  honking  north  on  the 

trails  of  air, 
The  spring  express — but  who  despatched  it,  equipped  with 

speed  and  cunning  care? 
Hark  to  our  bluebird  down  in  the  orchard  trolling  his 

chant  of  the  happy  heart. 
As  full  of  light  as  a  theme  of  Mozart's— but  where  did 

he  learn  that  more  than  art? 

Where  the  river  winds  through  grassy  meadows,  as  sure 
as  the  south  wind  brings  the  rain. 

Sounding  his  reedy  note  in  the  alders,  the  starling  comes 
back  to  his  nest  again. 

Art  these  not  miracles?  Prompt  you  answer:  "  Mrrely 
the  prose  of  natural  fact; 

Nothing  but  instinct  plain  and  patent,  born  in  the  crea- 
tures, that  bids  them  act." 


Well,  I  have  an  instinct  as  fine  and  valid,  surely,  as  tliat 

of  the  beasts  and  birds. 
Concerning  death  and  the  life  immortal,   too  deep   for 

logic,  too  vague  for  words. 
No  trace  of  beauty  can  pass  or  perish,  but  other  beauty 

is  somewhere  born; 
No  seed  of  truth  or  good  be  planted,  but  the  yield  must 

grow  as  the  growing  corn. 

35 


EASTER  EVE 

Therefore  thi,  ardent  m,nd  and  spirit  I  give  to  the  glow- 

ing  days  of  earth, 
To  be  vvrouKlu  hy  ,1„  ,,o,d  „,  ,;,,  ,„  ^^ 

ing  import  and  lovely  worth 
If  the  toil  I  Kive  be  without  self-seeLing,  bestowed  to  the 

limit  of  will  and  power 
To  fashion  after  son,e  form  ideal  the  instant  task  and  the 
waiting  hour, 

It  matters  not  though  defeat  undo  me,  thoush  faults  he- 

tray  me  and  sorrows  scar 
Already  I  share  the  life  eternal  ;ith  the  April  bud,  and 

the  evening  star. 
Our  minister  here,  entrenched  in  doctrine,  may  know  no 

doubt  upon  Easter  Eve 
And  when  it  comes  to  the  crucial  question.  Doctor,  vou 

skeptic,  you  too  believe! 


36 


RESURG^M 

T    (),  now  comes  the  April  pageant 
■*-'     And  the  Easter  of  the  year. 
Now  the  tulip  lifts  her  chalice, 
And  the  hyacinth  his  spear; 
All  the  daffodils  and  jonquils 
\Vith  their  hearts  of  gold  are  here. 
Child  of  the  immortal  vision, 
What  hast  thou  to  do  with  fear  ? 

When  the  summons  wakes  the  impulse, 
And  the  blood  beats  in  the  vein, 
Let  no  grief  thy  dream  encumber. 
No  regret  thy  thought  detain. 
Through  the  scented  bloom-hung  valleys, 
Over  tillage,  wood  and  plain. 
Comes  the  soothing  south  wind  laden 
With  the  sweet  imnsirtial  rain. 


All  along  th'-  ruoia  umi  pavements 
Pass  the  volleying  silver  showers, 
To  unfold  the  hearts  of  humans 
And  the  frail  unanxious  flowers. 
Breeding  fast  in  sunlit  places. 
Teeming  life  puts  forth  her  powers. 
And  the  migrant  wings  come  north«'ard 
On  the  trail  of  golden  hours. 

37 


RESURGAM 

Over  intervale  and  upland 
Sounds  the  robin's  interlude 
From  his  tree-top  spire  at  evening 
Where  no  unbeliefs  intrude. 
Every  follower  of  beauty 
Finds  in  the  spring  solitude 
Sanctuary  and  persuasion 
Where  the  mysteries  still  brood. 

Now  the  bluebird  in  the  orchard, 
A  warm  sighing  at  the  door, 
And  the  soft  haze  on  the  hillside, 
Lure  the  houseling  to  explore 
The  perennial  enchanted 
Lovely  world  and  all  its  lore; 
While  the  early  tender  twilight 
Breathes  of  those  who  come  no  more. 

By  full  brimming  river  margins 
Where  the  scents  of  brush  fires  blow, 
Through  the  faint  green  mist  of  springtime 
Dreammg  glad-eyed  lovers  go, 
Touched  with  such  immortal  madness 
Not  a  thing  they  care  to  know 
More  than  those  who  caught  life's  secret 
Countless  centuries  ago. 
38 


RESURGAM 

In  old  Egypt  lor  Osiris, 
Putting  on  the  green  attire, 
With  soft  hymns  and  choric  dancing 
They  went  forth  to  greet  the  fire 
Of  the  vernal  sun,  whose  ardor 
His  earth  children  could  inspire ; 
And  the  ivory  flutes  would  lead  them 
To  the  slake  of  their  desire. 


In  remembrance  of  Adonis 
Did  the  Dorian  maidens  sing 
Linus  songs  of  joy  and  sorrow 
For  the  coming  back  of  spring,— 
Sorrow  for  the  wintry  death 
Of  each  irrevocable  thing, 
Joy  for  all  the  pangs  of  beauty 
The  returning  year  could  bring. 


Now  the  priests  and  holy  women 
With  sweet  incense,  chant  and  prayer. 
Keep  His  death  and  resurrection 
Whose  new  love  bade  all  men  share 
Immortality  of  kindness. 
Living  to  make  life  more  fair. 
Wakened  to  such  wealth  of  being. 
Who  would  not  arise  and  dare? 

39 


RESURGAM 

Seeing  liow  each  new  fuliiUment 

Issues  at  the  call  of  need 

From  infinitudes  of  purpose 

In  the  core  of  soul  and  seed, 

Who  shall  set  the  bounds  of  puissance 

Or  the  formulas  of  creed  ? 

Truth  awaits  the  test  of  beauty, 

Good  is  proven  in  the  deed. 

Therefore,  give  thy  spring  renascence, — 
Freshened  ardor,  dreams  and  mirth, — 
To  make  perfect  and  replenish 
All  the  sorry  fault  and  dearth 
Of  the  life  from  whose  enrichment 
Thine  aspiring  will  had  birth  ; 
Take  thy  part  in  the  redemption 
Of  thy  kind  from  bonds  of  earth. 


So  shalt  thou,  absorbed  in  beauty, 
Even  in  this  mortal  clime 
Share  the  life  that  is  eternal, 
Brother  to  the  lords  of  time, — 
Virgil,  Raphael,  Gautama,— 
Builders  of  the  world  sublime. 
Yesterday  was  not  earth's  evening. 
Every  morning  is  our  prime. 
40 


RESURGAM 

All  that  can  be  worth  the  rescue 

From  oblivion  and  decay, — 

Joy  and  loveliness  and  wisdom, — 

In  thyself,  without  dismay 

Thou  shah  save  and  make  enduring 

Through  each  word  and  act,  to  sway 

The  hereafter  to  a  likeness 

Of  thyself  in  other  clay. 

Still  remains  the  peradventure. 
Soul  pursues  an  orbit  here 
Like  those  unreturning  comets. 
Sweeping  on  a  vast  career. 
By  an  infinite  directrix, 
Focussed  to  a  finite  sphere, — 
Nurtured  in  an  earthly  April, 
In  what  realm  to  reappear? 


41 


^T   THE  MAKING   OF  MAN 

TTIRST  all  the  host  of  Raphael 

-*       In  liveries  of  gold. 
Lifted  the  chorus  on  whose  rhythm 
The  spinning  spheres  are  rolled, — 
The  Seraphs  of  the  morning  calm 
IVhose  hearts  are  never  cold. 


He  shall  be  lu-n  a  spirit, 

Part  of  the  sc   '.  that  yearns, 

The  core  of  vital  gladness 

That  suffers  and  discerns, 

The  stir  that  breaks  the  budding  sheath 

When  the  green  spring  returns, — 

The  gist  of  power  and  patience 

Hid  in  the  plasmic  clay, 

The  calm  behind  the  senses, 

The  passionate  essay 

To  make  his  wise  and  lovely  dream 

Immortal  on  a  day. 

The  soft  Aprilian  ardors 

That  warm  the  waiting  loam 

Shall  whisper  in  his  pulses 

To  bid  him  overcome, 

And  he  shall  learn  the  wonder-cry 

Beneath  the  azure  dome. 


JT   THE  MAKING   OF  MAN 

And  though  all-dying  nature 
Should  teach  him  to  deplore, 
The  naddy  fires  of  autumn 
Shall  lure  him  but  the  more 
To  pass  from  joy  to  stronger  joy, 
As  through  an  open  door. 

He  shall  have  hope  and  honor, 

Proud  trust  and  courage  stark. 

To  hold  him  to  his  purpose 

Through  the  unlighted  dark. 

And  love  that  sees  the  moon's  full  orb 

In  the  first  silver  arc. 

And  he  shall  live  by  kindness 
And  the  heart's  certitude, 
AVhich  moves  without  misgiving 
In  vifays  not  understood. 
Sure  only  of  the  vast  event, — 
The  large  and  simple  good. 

Then  Gabriel's  host  in  silver  gear 

And  vesture  twilight  blue. 

The  spirits  of  immortal  mind. 

The  warders  of  the  true, 

Took  up  the  theme  that  gives  the  world 

Significance  anew. 

43 


^T   THE   MAKING   OF  MAN 

He  shall  be  born  to  reason, 
And  have  the  primal  need 
To  understand  and  follow 
Wherever  truth  may  lead,— 
To  grow  in  wisdom  like  a  tree 
Unfolding  from  a  seed. 

A  watcher  by  the  sheepfolds, 
With  wonder  in  his  eyes, 
He  shall  behold  the  seasons, 
And  mark  the  planets  rise, 
Till  all  the  marching  firmament 
Shall  rouse  his  vast  surmise. 

Beyond  the  sweep  of  vision. 

Or  utmost  reach  of  sound, 

This  cunning  fire-maker. 

This  tiller  of  the  ground. 

Shall  learn  the  secrets  of  the  suns 

And  fathom  the  profound. 

For  he  must  prove  all  being 
Sane,  beauteous,  benign. 
And  at  the  heart  of  nature 
Discover  the  divine, — 
Himself  the  type  and  symbol 
Of  the  eternal  trine. 

44 


AT   THE  MAKING   OF  MAN 

He  shall  perceive  the  kindling 
Of  knowledge,  far  and  dim, 
As  of  the  fire  that  brightens 
Below  the  dark  sea-rim, 
When  ray  by  ray  the  splendid  sun 
Floats  to  the  world's  wide  brim. 

And  out  of  primal  instinct, 

The  lore  of  lair  and  den, 

He  shall  emerge  to  question 

How,  wherefore,  whence,  and  when. 

Till  the  last  frontier  of  the  truth 

Shall  lie  within  his  ken. 


Then  Michael's  scarlet-suited  host 

Took  up  the  word  and  sang; 

As  though  a  trumpet  had  been  loosed 

In  heaven,  the  arches  rang; 

For  these  were  they  who  feel  the  thrill 

Of  beauty  like  a  pang. 

He  shall  be  framed  and  balanced 
For  loveliness  and  power. 
Lithe  as  the  supple  creatures, 
And  colored  as  a  flower, 
Sustaine''  '^v  the  all-feeding  earth. 
Nurtured  by  wind  and  shower, 

45 


AT  THE  MAKING   OF  MAN 

To  stand  within  the  vortex 
Where  surging  forces  play, 
A  poised  and  pliant  figure 
Immutable  as  they, 
Till  time  and  space  and  energy 
Surrender  to  his  sway. 

He  shall  be  free  to  journey 

Over  the  teeming  earth, 

An  insatiable  seeker, 

A  wanderer  from  his  birth. 

Clothed  in  the  fragile  veil  of  sense, 

With  fortitude  for  girth. 

His  hands  shall  have  dominion 

Of  all  created  things. 

To  fashion  in  the  likeness 

Of  his  imaginings, 

To  make  his  will  and  thought  survive 

Unto  a  thousand  springs. 

The  world  shall  be  his  province, 
The  princedom  of  his  skill; 
The  tides  shall  wear  his  harness. 
The  winds  obey  his  will; 
Till  neither  flood,  nor  fire,  nor  frost. 
Shall  work  to  do  him  ill. 
46 


AT  THE  MAKING   OF  MAN 

A  creature  fit  to  carry 

The  pure  creative  fire, 

Whatever  truth  inform  him, 

Whatever  good  inspire. 

He  shall  make  lovely  in  all  things 

To  the  end  of  his  desire. 


47 


ON  PONUS  RIDGE 


I  "^ARD  the  voice  of  our  mother  planet  murmur  to- 
day as  the  south  wind  blew 
Over  the  old  Connecticut  granite,   up  from  the  Sound 

and  the  rainy  blue. 
"What    i,    your   comment,    wandering    brother,"    said 
ronus  Ridge  to  the  striding  rain 
Not   on   the   new   word.   Lore   o«   another,   but   the 
!/  ""'■'"er  text,  Ye  shall  rise  again f 

"  ""^'/hou  found  out  truth  at  the  core  of  being,  in  thy 

long  wandering  to  and  fro? 
Dost  thou  know  what  lurks  beyond   foreseeing  in  the 
,1  ,  endless  rhythm  of  ebb  and  flow?" 

Much  have  I  heard,"  said  Rain,  %f  the  babel  and 
heated  haste  of  the  lordling  Man, 
Telling  the  wind  his  gorgeous  fable;  but  who  shall  hurry 
or  check  the  plan? 

"  I  take  small  heed  of  the  tales  he  mutters,"  the  glitter- 
ing copious  rain  ran  on; 
"  My  music  drowns  the  words  he  utters;  I  make  my  bed 
where  his  town-lights  shone. 
j  ^  hear  the  drone  of  his  church  and  college,  humming 

I  like  hives  from  roof  to  f    ir 

j  With  direful  chant  and  delirious  knowledge,  as  I  pass 

;  foot-free  by  their  open  door. 

48 


ON  PONUS  RIDGE 

"  '  ''•^^.'""d  the  vaunts  of  Ins  daring  drcamm    the 
thmg,  foretold  by  hi,  son,  of  might 

glow  and  fade  in  the  arctic  night. 
"'^Calr:hrpi:;— ---.-P- 
"X"a;aX^f^r"^-•-'^•^--- 
"The  earth  is  my  house,  the  spring  my  portal;  I  serve 
without  envy,  debate  or  fear 
hough  I  pass  in  mist,  am  I  less  immortal  than  the  great- 
7"8  ge™  or  the  glowing  sphere? 

"""timrha";  r  "'  '  ^°  '°  *•"=  --■  '-  ^^ousand 
times  have  I  risen  again 

'■    ^  the  welter  and  lift  of  eternity,  to  solace  thy  wait- 
ing not  in  vain.  ^     "" 


lake  and  orchard,  by  wood  and  field; 
My  silver  voice  with  a  sob  delivers  the  message  fore- 
telling a  goodly  yield. 

'  '"'sll.t'dTh'  '\  'Z  "■".  '"^  ^^^'"'"^  "«-'-  I  have 
sluiced  the  ache  of  thy  breeding  fire; 

have  penshed  in  transport  and  died  with  zest,  to  fill 
tne  measure  of  thy  desire. 

49 


ON  PONUS   RIDGE 

"  Thr  *Kd»  of  life  are  of  my  sowing,  the  virile  impulse. 
the  fertile  gush, 

ITie  gist  and  start  of  all  things  'growing;  but  thint  i- 
the  warmth  and   the  pregnant  hush. 

The  stir  of  joy  is  of  my  giving;  a  hint  of  perfection  fnr 
and  fine 

I  speak  as  I  pass  to  all  things  living ;  hui  the  patient  wis- 
dom and  lore  are  thine." 

Then  the  mother  giM.iite,  grey,  eternal,  scarred,  to  the 

careless  eye  uncouth, 
Spoke  in  a  ];•  .  ,iiage  pure  and  vernal,  solemn  as  beauty 

and  sweet  as  truth. 
In  the  voice  of  the  Ridge  in  her  April  season,  through 

the  babble  of  streams  and  the  calls  of  birds, 
Under  the  rune  I  caught  the  reason,  out  of  the  murmur 

I  made  the  words. 


"Nay,  my  comrade,  I  too  must  pass;  though  my  fleet- 
ing hours  be  ages  long, 

I  abide  in  the  end  no  more  than  the  grass,  than  a  putt 
of  smoke  or  a  strain  of  song. 

If  I  give  myself  to  the  moment's   rapture  of  lilt  and 
leafage,  shall  I  repine 

That  the  joy  I  bestow  escapes  recapture,  spent  for  the 
beauty  of  branch  and  vine? 
SO 


ON  PONUS   RIDGE 

"  Strong,  unhurrying,  unbdated,  part  of  the  dow  sidereal 
urge, 

Patient  and  sure  at  heart  I  xvaited  for  life  to  throb  and 
its  form*  emerge. 

While  cosmic  sons  dawned  and  darkened,  and  mon- 
strous d.-ift  and  blast  went  by. 

In  my  slow  gestation  I  lay  and  barkened  for  soul  to 
question  and  sense  to  cry. 

"  I  am  the  ardent  and  ageless  mothei  of  all  things  human, 

all  things  divine. 
The  ravaging  snows  may  whirl  and  smother,  the  large 

cold  moon  of  November  shine, 
But  safe  in  my  soil  the  germs  are  sleeping  that  shall 

awake  when  the  time  is  come. 
To  prove  the  beneficence  of  my  keeping,  and  don  the 

glory   of   fragrant   bloom. 


"  See  my  youi.g  willows  in  sunlight  lifting  their  silver 
lances  against  the  blue. 

And  here  where  the  matted  leaves  are  rifting,  the  hoods 
of  the  Mood-root  breaking  through. 

Soon  in  the  sheltered  sun-warmed  places,  out  of  my  an- 
cient enchanted  mould. 

Frail  spring-beauties  will  lift  their  faces,  and  adder- 
tongues  put  forth  their  gold. 

51 


ON  PONUS  RIDGE 

"  Hark  to  my  minstrel,  beyond  the  boulders  down  in  the 

swamp, — on  time,  no  fear! — 
In  his  sable  coat  with  scarlet  shoulders,  with  his  husky 

flute  that  is  good  to  hear. 
And  hark  again,  in  the  long  Aprilian  dusk  on  the  marsh 

to  my  piper's  cry. 
To-night  but  one,  to-morrow  a  million  will  lift  my  heart 

on  their  chorus  high. 

"Now  Sirius  low  in  the  west  is  leaning,  Arcturus  lifts 

on  the  eastern  rim, — 
The  poise,  the  order,  the  mighty  meaning,  creating  beauty 

from  brim  to  brim. 
Under  the  dust  of  seed  and  planet,  the  river  music,  the 

starry  light. 
Am    I   in   the   midst,    immortal   granite,   merging   my 

strength  with  the  soul  of  night. 


"  At  •norn  I  fliall  see  from  my  stream-bed  narrow  the 
wild  geese  flapping  with  honk  and  plash. 

To  steady  and  drive  thsir  Indian  arrow  north-by-east 
for  the  Allegash. 

And  then  the  high  clear  note  of  gladness,  the  rallying 
call  of  the  golden-wing. 

The  solace  of  grief,  the  shame  of  sadness,  the  goodly  far- 
sent  summons  of  spring. 
5a 


ON  PONUS  RIDGE 

"  Here  all  day  long  I  shall  lie  and  ponder  the  teeming 

life  whereon  I  brood, 
While  the  buds  unfold,  the  low  clouds  wander,  and  all 

things  flow  to  rhythm  and  mood. 
And  seeing  all  form  but  the  trace  of  motion,  all  beauty 

the  vestige  of  joy  mgde  plain, 
Shall  I  stint  my  care  and  my  devotion,  to  vex  me  with 

counting  the  once  or  afain? 

"  I  take  no  measure,  I  keep  no  tally,  of  the  budding 

spray  and  the  le-'^ng  bough, 
\'et  not  a  blossom  in  all  the  valley  but  is  the  pride  of 

my  patience  now. 
In  the  hardwood  groves  where  the  sun  lies  mellow,  the 

purple  hepaticas  take  the  air. 
1   help  the  catkins  to  break  and  yellow;  the  greening 

spring-runs  are  in  my  care. 


"  I  loosen  the  sheaths  of  the  bladed  rushes,  I  lift  the 

sap  in  the  spiral  cells. 
Till  the  first  soft  tinge  through  the  woodland  flushes, 

and  the  crimson  bud  of  the  maple  swells. 
I  nurse  them  to  beauty  hour  by  hour.    And  there  by  the 

road  in  its  grove  of  pine. 
The  little  bare  school  with  its  dreams  of  power  and 

joy  of  knowledge, — that,  too,  is  mine!" 

S3 


THE    MJN    OF    PEACE 


(FEBRUARY    I2TH,    I9O9) 

TX/HAT  winter  holiday  is  this? 
'  »        In  Time's  great  calendar, 
Marked  in  the  rubric  of  the  saints, 
And  with  a  soldier's  star. 
Here  stands  the  name  of  one  who  lived 
To  serve  the  common  weal, 
With  humor  tender  as  a  prayer 
And  honor  firm  as  steel. 

No  hundred  hundred  years  can  dim 

The  radiance  of  his  mirth. 

That  set  unselfish  laughter  free 

From  all  the  sons  of  earth. 

Unswerved  through  stress  and  scant  success. 

Out  of  his  dreamful  youth 

He  kept  an  unperverted  faith 

In  the  almighty  truth. 

Bom  in  the  fulness  of  the  days. 
Up  from  the  teeming  soil. 
By  the  world-mother  reared  and  schooled 
In  reverence  and  toil. 
He  stands  the  test  of  all  life's  best 
Through  play,  defeat,  or  strain; 
Never  a  moment  was  he  found 
Unlovable  nor  vain. 
S4 


THE  MAN  OF  PEACE 

Fondly  we  set  apart  this  day, 

And  mark  this  plot  of  earth 

To  be  forever  hallowed  ground 

In  honor  of  his  birth, 

Where  men  may  come  as  to  a  shrine 

And  temple  of  the  good. 

To  be  made  sweet  and  strong  of  heart 

In  Lincoln's  brotherhood. 

Here  walked  God's  earth  in  modesty 
The  shadow  that  was  man, 
A  shade  of  the  divine  that  moved 
Through  His  mysterious  plan. 
So  must  we  fill  the  larger  mould 
Of  wisdom,  love,  and  power. 
Fearless,  compassionate,  contained, 
And  masters  of  the  hour, 


As  men  found  faithful  to  a  task 

Eternal,  pressing,  plain, 

Accounting  manhood  more  than  wealth, 

And  gladness  more  than  gain; 

Distilling  happiness  from  life, 

As  vigor  from  the  air. 

Not  wresting  it  with  ruthless  hands. 

Spoiling  our  brother's  share. 

55 


J! 


THE  MAN  OF  PEACE 

Here  shall  our  children  keep  alive 

The  passion  for  the  right, — 

The  cause  of  justice  in  the  world, 

That  was  our  fathers'  fight. 

For  this  the  fair-haired  stripling  rode, 

The  dauntless  veteran  died, 

For  this  we  keep  the  ancient  code 

In  stubbornness  and  pride. 

O  South,  bring  all  your  chivalry; 

And  West,  give  all  your  heart ; 

And  East,  your  old  untarnished  dreams 

Of  progress  and  of  artl 

Bid  waste  and  war  to  be  no  more, 

Bid  wanton  riot  cease; 

At  your  command  give  Lincoln's  land 

To  Paradise, — to  peace. 


%\ 


56 


CHAMPLAIN 


(read   at   BURLINGTON,   VERMONT,   JULY,    I9O9) 

^T  7HEN  the  sweet  Summer  days 
'  *    Come  to  New  England,  and  the  south  wind  plays 
Over  the  forests,  and  the  tall  lulip  trees 
Lift  up  their  chalices 
Of  delicate  orange  green 
Against  the  blue  serene; 
When  the  chestnut  crowns  are  full  of  flowers, 
And  the  long  iiours 
Are  not  too  long 
For  the  oriole's  song; 
When  the  wild  roses  blow 
In  blueberry  pastures,  and  the  Bobwhite's  note 
Calls  us  away 

On  the  happy  trail  where  every  heart  must  go; 
When  the  white  clouds  float 
Through  an  ampler  day, 

Above  the  battlements  of  the  Mountains  Green, 
Where  the  woods  come  down  to  the  fields  on  every  hand, 
And  the  meadow-land 
Breaks  into  ripples  and  swells 

With  the  gold  of  the  black-eyed  daisies  and  lily-bells; 
When  the  old  sea  lies  mystical  blue  once  more 
Along  the  Pilgrim  shore. 

Crooning  to  stone-fenced  pastures  sweet  with  fern 
Tales  of  the  long  ago  and  the  far  away; 

57 


CHAMPLAIN 

And  when  to  the  hemlock  solitudes  return 

The  gold-voiced  thrushes,  and  the  high  beach  woods 

Ring  with  enchantment  as  the  twilight  falls 

Among  the  darkening  hills; 

And  the  new  moonlight  fills 

The  world  with  beauty  and  the  soul  with  peace 

And  infinite  release; 

Is  there  any  land  that  history  recalls, 

Bestowed  by  gods  on  mortals  anywhere. 

More  goodly  than  New  England  or  more  fair? 

On  such  a  day  three  hundred  years  ago 
By  toilsome  trails  and  slow, 
j ,  But  with  the  adventurer's  spirit  high  aflame. 

The  great  discoverer  came. 
Finding  another  Indies  than  he  guessed 
To  reward  his  daring  quest. 

And  fill  the  wonder-volume  of  Romance, 

The  sailor  of  little  Brouage,  the  founder  of  New  France, 
Sturdy,  sagacious,  plain 
Samuel  de  Champlain. 


\s\ 


On  many  a  river  and  stream 
The  paddles  of  his  Abenakis  dip  and  gleam; 
Their  slim  canoe-poles  set  and  flash  in  the  sun. 
Where  strong  white  waters  run; 

58 


l\ 


CHAMPLAIN 

By  many  a  portage,  many  a  wooded  shore, 

They  press  on  to  explore 

The  unknown  that  leads  them  ever  to  the  west- 

And  when  at  dusk  their  camp  is  made 

Within  the  dense  still  shade. 

The  white  shafts  of  the  moonlight  creep 

About  them  while  they  sleep 

On  the  earth's  fragrant  and  untroubled  breast. 

Then  on  a  day  upon  some  marble  rise 

They  stand  in  mute  surmise, 

And  wonder,  as  they  gaze 

On  the  green  wilderness  in  summer  haze. 

At  a  new  paradise 

Unrolled  before  their  eyes. 


What  did  he  seek. 

This  hardy  voyager  with  the  steady  hand. 

And  the  sunburnt  cheek  ? 


Passage  to  India  and  the  fabled  land 

So  longed  for  and  foretold. 

Where  rivers  ran  with  gold, — 

Man's  fond  far  hope  of  unlaborious  ease, 

Miraculous  wealth  and  benefits  unearned. 

For  which  he  vainly  yearned. 

59 


CHAMPLAIV 


hff 


1^ 


j"" 


He  found  here  no  such  place, 
But  in  this  new  world  again  was  face  to  face 
With  life's  familiar  laws  and  orders  old, 
Still  to  be  followed,  if  we  would  fill  the  mould 
Of  our  ideal, — a  manhood  that  is  free 
With  the  soul's  large  and  happy  liberty. 

As  if  God  said  to  Man, 

"  Try  once  again  my  plan. 

Here  is  a  continent  all  new, 

Take  it  and  see  once  more  what  thou  canst  do. 

The  happiness  which  thy  stormy  heart  desires 

My  will  foresees,  requires. 

On  the  long  road  that  lies 

Across  the  centuries 

To  my  perfection  dimly  understood, 

Seek  thou  the  almighty  good, 

The  everlasting  beautiful  and  true." 

Men  of  New  England,  sons  of  pioneers, 

And  in  your  birthright  peers 

Of  the  world's  masters,  this  is  holy  soil, 

The  divine  ancestral  dust  from  which  we  come. 

Bringing  our  dream  of  justice,  the  high  thot  ■  t 

Of  a  pure  freedom  for  which  our  mothers  wrought 

In  dreamful  pride. 

And  our  fathers  lived  and  died 

With  unselfish  toil. 

60 


CHJMPUIN 

Even  u  they  willed, 

We  too  must  toil  to  build 

The  ideal  state, 

Which  shall  be  strong  without  brutality, 

And  by  its  fine  humanity  be  great. 

This  is  no  fairyland. 

No  Eldorado  planned 

For  mtm's  salvation.    The  law  runs  forth  and  back, 

Immutable  as  the  sun  on  his  sidereal  track, 

Beneficent  as  the  trees. 

And  as  the  noon  profound: 

Only  with  labor  comes  ease. 

Only  with  wisdom  comes  joy, 

And  greatness  comes  not  without  love. 

This  is  God's  garden  ground. 
And  we  are  the  tillers  thereof. 
And  the  crop  shall  be  women  and  men, 
As  ever  of  old, — 
Not  a  pale  city  breed. 
Bred  between  hunger  and  greed, 
But  a  new  cosmic  race, 
With  the  poise  of  the  world  in  its  mien, 
The  ineffable  soul  in  its  face. 
Remembering  the  best  that  has  been, 
And  its  password,  "  The  best  that  can  be !  " 
6i 


If 


CHAMPLAIN 

No  Mnopotamian  valley,  nor  Eden  age, 

No  long  ago,  nor  by-and-by, 

Is  the  place,  is  the  time. 

For  the  birth  of  the  sublime 

From  the  lovely  and  the  sane. 

But  the  time  is  now,  and  the  place  is  here, 

For  life  divine. 

In  July  of  the  year 

Nineteen  hundred  and  nine. 

In  the  Country  of  Champlain. 


I' 


62 


THE   GOLDEN  ffEST 

TV  thf  golden  dawn  of  the  world, 

When  man  emerged 
From  the  mysterious  E«»t, 
With  the  breath  of  life  in  his  mouth, 
And  the  tell-tale  trace 
Of  the  red  clay  still  on  his  face. 

He  turned  with  inquisitive  gaze, 

A  child  of  the  light, 

To  follow  the  track  of  the  sun 

Through  the  void  far  blue. 

Seeing  it  sink  to  rest 

In  a  glorious  golden  West. 

Then  an  unassuageable  urge 
Awoke  in  his  blood, 
The  brooding  spirit  of  Earth 
Whispered  a  word  in  his  heart, 
And  man  went  forth  on  the  trail. 
Knowing  he  should  not  fail. 


II 

And  the  slow  centuries 
Measured  his  toilsome  march, 
While  ever  his  face  was  set 

63 


THE  GOLDEN  h^EST 

To  lands  that  lie  beyond 
The  going  down  of  the  sun, 
Where  endeavor's  requital  is  won. 


From  Egypt  and  P-eece  and  Tyre, 
From  Assyria  anc*  i^ome, 
With  color  and  po^np  and  joy, 
Laughter  and  chants  and  war. 
Moved  the  great  caravan 
Of  wandering  man. 


Uy 


Conquering  mountain  and  i>;a, 
Spreading  through  forest  and  plain, 
Crossing  the  outer  flood, — 
The  rim  of  the  ancient  world, — 
He  passed  over  new  domain 
Like  the  hosts  of  sweeping  rain. 


I : 


Traversing  prairie  and  wood. 
Waterway,  desert,  and  range. 
At  last  by  the  ultimate  shore 
Of  the  ageless  sea, 
His  pack-trains  come  to  rest 
In  our  golden  West. 


THE  GOLDEN  ffEST 

III 
Here  have  the  most  high  Onet, 
The  Overlords  of  the  world, 
The  Archangels  of  man, 
Brought  their  earth  children  at  last, 
To  the  happy  land  prepared 
For  those  who  have  labored  and  dared. 


O  men  and  women  born 
Of  the  teeming  and  holy  earth, 
And  led  through  the  myriad  years 
By  the  impulse  and  vision  divine, 
Behold  now  what  shall  be  done 
With  the  heritage  we  have  won  ? 

Here  with  an  empire  to  use, 
Wealth  beyond  Solomon's  dream, 
And  the  balm  and  respite  of  peace, 
In  a  garden  of  the  world, 
What  is  the  news  or  the  plan 
Of  Twentieth  Century  man? 


IV 

I  heard  the  Sierras  reply. 
Rank  after  rank  as  they  rose 
Through  the  golden  and  violet  light, 

65 


,  1 

:  i 


1  = 


THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  The  destined  days  are  at  hand. 
When  my  children  shall  arise 
And  assume  the  heroic  guise 


"  From  the  beginning  designed 
For  the  seraphs,  and  sons  of  earth. 
They  shall  put  off  envy  and  fear, 
And  skulking  merciless  greed. 
And  be  girded  against  all  ills 
With  the  vigor  and  poise  of  the  hills. 


\iu 


"  Here  on  this  border  of  time 
Where  mighty  morrows  are  born. 
Emerging  from  ages  of  dream 
And  the  dust  of  unreason  and  strife, 
They  shall  grow  wise  and  humane 
With  a  gladness  virile  and  sane. 


"  Primal  in  beauty  and  pride. 
Christian  in  kindness  and  calm. 
Modem  in  knowledge  and  skill. 

Sons  of  the  morning,  arise 

Earth's  awaited  and  best— 
From  the  golden  West!" 

(K) 


I 

1T( 


THE  GATE   OF  PEACE 

A   H,  who  will  build  the  city  of  our  dream, 
1  X.     Where  beauty  shall  abound  and  truth  avail, 
With  patient  love  that  is  too  wise  for  strife, 
Blci^ding  in  power  as  gentle  as  the  rain 
With  the  reviving  earth  on  full  spring  days? 
Who  now  will  speed  us  to  its  gate  of  peace. 
And  reassure  us  on  our  doubtful  road? 

Three  centuries  ago  a  fearless  man. 
Yearning  to  set  his  people  in  the  way, 
Threw  all  his  royal  might  into  a  plan 
To  found  an  ideal  city  that  should  give 
Freedom  to  every  instinct  for  the  best. 
From  humblest  impulse  in  his  own  domain 
To  rumored  wisdom  from  the  world's  far  ends. 
Strengthened  with  ardor  from  a  high  resolve, 
Beneath  the  patient  smile  of  Indian  skies 
This  fair  dream  flourished  for  a  score  of  years. 
Until  the  blight  of  evil  touched  its  bloom 
With  fading,  and  transformed  its  vivid  life 
Into  a  ghost-flower  of  its  fair  design. 

Now  ruined  nursery  tower  and  gay  boudoir, 
A  sad  custodian  of  sacred  tombs. 
And  scattered  feathers  from  the  purple  wings 
Of  doves  who  reign  in  undisputed  calm 
Over  this  Eden  of  hope  and  fair  essay, 
Recall  the  valor  of  this  ancient  quest. 
67 


THE   GATE    OF  PEACE 


\,Ss 


Great  Akbar, — grandfather  of  Shah  Jehan, 

The  artist  Emperor  of  India 

Who  built  the  Taj  for  love  of  one  held  dear 

Beyond  all  other  women  in  the  world, 

And  left  that  loveliest  memorial, 

The  most  supreme  of  wonders  wrought  by  man, 

To  move  for  very  joy  all  hearts  to  tears 

Beholding  how  great  beauty  springs  from  love, — 

Akbar  the  wisest  ruler  over  Ind, 

Grandson  of  Babar  in  whose  veins  were  mixed 

The  blood  of  Tamerlane  and  Chinghiz  Khan, 

Who  beat  the  Afghans  and  the  Rajputs  down 

At  Paniput  and  Buxar  in  Bengal, 

Making  himself  the  lord  of  Hindustan, 

And  with  his  restless  Tartars  founded  there 

The  Mogul  empire  with  its  Moslem  faith. 

Its  joyousness,  enlightenment,  and  art, — 

Akbar  of  all  the  sovereigns  of  the  East 

Is  still  most  deeply  loved  and  gladly  praised. 


For  he  who  conquered  with  so  strong  a  hand 
Cahul,  Kashmir,   and  Kandahar,  and   Sind, 
Oudh  and  Orissa,  Chitor  and  Ajmir, 
With  all  their  wealth  to  weld  them  into  one, 
T upholding  justice  with  his  sovereignty 
Throughout  his  borders  and  imposing  peace. 
Was  first  and  last  a  seeker  after  truth. 
68 


THE   GATE    OF  PEACE 

No  craven  unlaborious  truce  he  sought, 

But  that  great  peace  which  only  comes  with  light, 

Emerging  after  chaos  has  been  quelled 

In  some  long  struggle  of  enduring  will, 

To  be  a  proof  of  order  and  of  law, 

Which  cannot  rest  on  falsehood  nor  on  wrong, 

But  spreads  like  generous  sunshine  on  the  earth 

When  goodness  has  been  gained  and  truth  made 

At  whatsoe'er  incalculable  cost. 


Returning  once  with  his  victorious  arms 

And  war-worn  companies  on  the  homeward  march 

To  Agra  and  his  court's  magnificence. 

From  a  campaign  against  some  turbulent  folk, 

He  came  at  evening  to  a  quiet  place 

Near  Sikri  by  the  roadside  through  the  woods. 

Where  there  were  many  doves  among  the  trees. 


There  Salim  Chisti  a  holy  man  had  made 
His  lonely  dwelling  in  the  wilderness, 
Seeking  perfection.    And  the  solitude 
Was  sweet  to  Akbar,  and  he  halted  there 
And  went  to  Salim  in  his  lodge  and  said, 
"  O  man  and  brother,  thy  long  days  are  spent 
In  meditation,  seeking  for  the  path 
69 


THE    GATE    OF  PEACE 

Through  this  great  world's  impediments  to  peace, 

Here  in  the  twilight  with  the  holy  stars 

Or  when  the  rose  of  morning  breaks  in  gold ; 

Tell  me,  I  pray,  whence  comes  the  gift  of  peace 

With  all  its  blessings  for  a  people's  need. 

And  how  may  true  tranquillity  be  found 

On  which  man's  restless  spirit  longs  to  rest?" 


)  And  Salim  answered,  "  Lord,  most  readily 

I  In  Allah's  out-of-doors,  for  there  men  live 

More  truly,  being  free  from  false  constraint, 
Mt',  ^O""  learning  wisdom  with  a  calmer  mind. 

For  they  who  would  find  peace  must  conquer  fear 
And  ignorance  and  greed, — the  ravagers 
Of  spirit,  mind,  and  sense,— and  learn  to  live 
Content  beneath  the  shade  of  Allah's  hand. 
Who  worships  not  his  own  will  shall  find  peace." 


|(  Then  Akbar  answered,  "  I  have  set  my  heart 

On  making  beauty,  truth,  and  justice  shine 
As  the  ordered  stars  above  the  darkened  earth. 
I  Are  not  these  also  things  to  be  desired, 

And  striven  for  with  no  uncertain  toil  ? 
And  save  through  them  whence  comes  the  gift  of  peace? 
70 


In 


i   ! 


THE   GATE    OF   PEACE 

Then  Salim  smiled,  and  with  his  finger  drew 
In  the  soft  dust  before  his  door,  and  said 
O  king,  thy  words  are  true,  thy  heart  most  wise 

1  hou  also  Shalt  find  peace,  as  Allah  wills 
Through  following  bravely  what  to  thee  seems  best 
When  any  question,  '  What  is  peace?  '  reply,       " 

The  shelter  of  the  Gate  of  Paradise 
The  shadow  of  the  archway,  not  the  arch 
W.thm  whose  shade  at  need  the  poor  may  rest, 
rhe  weary  be  refreshed,  the  weak  secure, 
And  all  men  pause  to  gladden  as  they  go.'  " 

And  Akbar  pondered  Salim  Chisti's  words. 
Then  tummg  to  his  ministers,  he  said 
"Here  will  I  build  my  capital,  and  here 
ITie  world  shall  come  unto  a  council  hall, 
And  in  a  place  of  peace  pursue  the  quest 
Of  wisdom  and  the  finding  out  of  truth, 
That  there  be  no  more  discord  upon  earth. 
But  only  knowledge,  beauty,  and  good  will." 


And  It  was  done  according  to  Akbar's  word 
Ihere  m  the  wilderness  as  by  magic  rose 
Futtehpur  Sikri,  the  victorious  city, 
Of  marble  and  red  sandstone  among  the  trees, 
71 


THE    GATE    OF   PEACE 

A  rose  unfolding  in  the  kindling  dawn. 
Palace  and  mosque  and  garden  and  serai, 
Bazaars  and  baths  and  spacious  pleasure  grounds, 
By  favor  of  Allah  to  perfection  sprang. 


ll 


Thus  Akbar  \/rought  to  make  his  dream  come  true. 
From  the  four  corners  of  the  world  he  brought 
His  master  workmen,  from  Iran  and  Ind, 
From  wild  Mongolia  and  the  Arabian  wastes; 
Masons  from  Baghdad,  Delhi,  and  Multan; 
Dome  builders  from  the  North,  from  Samarkand ; 
Cunning  mosaic  workers  from  Kanauj  ; 
And  carvers  of  inscriptions  from  Shiraz; 
And  they  all  labored  with  endearing  skill, 
Each  at  his  handicraft,  to  make  beauty  be. 

When  the  first  ax-blade  on  the  timber  rang, 
The  timid  doves,  as  if  foreboding  ill. 
Had  fled  from  Sikri  and  its  quiet  groves. 

But  as  he  promised,  Akbar  sent  and  bade 
The  wise  men  of  all  nations  to  his  court, 
Brahman  and  Christian,  Buddhist  and  Parsee, 
Jain  and  stif?  Mohammedan  and  Jew, 
All  followers  of  the  One  with  many  names, 
Bringing  the  ghostly  wisdom  of  the  earth. 
72 


THE   GATE   OF  PEACE 
And  so  they  came  of  every  hue  and  c™d 
From  the  twelve  winds  of  heaven  their  caravans 
Drew  mto  S.kri  as  Akbar  summoned  them, 
lo  spend  long  afternoons  in  counci!  grave 
Siftmg  tradition  for  the  seed  of  truth        ' 
In  the  great  mosque  in  Futtehpur  at  peace. 
And  Saiim  Chisti  lived  his  holy  life 
Beloved  and  honored  there  as  Akbar's  friend. 

But  light  and  changeable  are  the  hearts  of  men 
boon  m  that  city  dedicate  to  peace 
Dissensions  spread  and  rivalries  grew  rife 
Envy  and  bitterness  and  strife  returned 
Once  more,  and  truth  before  them  fled  away. 

Then  Salim  Chisti,  coming  to  Akbar  spoke, 
Lord,  g,ve  thy  servant  leave  now  to  depart 
And  follow  where  the  fluttered  wings  have  gone. 
For  here  there  is  no  longer  any  peace 
And  truth  cannot  prevail  ^vhere  discord  dwells." 
■'Nay  then,"  said  Akbar,  "  'tis  not  thou  but  1 
Who  am  the  servant  here  and  must  go  hence. 
1  found  thee  master  of  this  solitude, 

Lord  of  the  princedom  of  a  quiet  m'ind, 

A  sovereign  vested  in  tranquillity 

And  I  have  done  thee  wrong  and  stayed  thy  feet 

from  foIloHmg  perfection,  with  my  horde 
73 


U 


THE   GATE   OF  PEACE 

Of  turbulent  malcontents;  and  my  loved  dream 

To  build  a  city  of  abiding  peace 

Was  but  a  vain  illusion.    Therefore  now 

This  foolish  people  shall  be  driven  forth 

From  this  fair  place,  to  live  ■    they  may  choose 

In  disputance  and  wrangli  il  longer  still, 

Until  they  learn,  if  Allah  w.lls  it  so, 

To  lay  aside  their  folly  for  the  truth." 

And  as  the  king  commanded,  so  it  was. 
More  quickly  than  he  came,  with  all  his  court 
And  hosts  of  followers  he  went  away. 
Leaving  the  place  to  solitude  once  more, — 
A  rose  to  wither  where  it  once  had  blown. 

To-day  the  all-kind  unpoUutel  sun 
Shines  through  the  marble  fret-work  with  no  sound; 
The  winds  play  hide  and  seek  through  corridors 
Where  stately  women  with  dark  glowing  eyes 
Have  laughed  and  frolicked  in  their  fluttering  robes; 
The  rose  leaves  drop  with  none  to  gather  them. 
In  gardens  where  no  footfall  comes  with  eve, 
Nor  any  lovers  watch  the  rising  moon ; 
And  ancient  silence,  truer  than  all  speech. 
Still  holds  the  secrets  of  the  Council  Hall, 
Upon  whose  walls  frescoes  of  many  faiths 
Attest  the  courtesy  of  open  minds. 

74 


THE    GATE    OF    PEACE 

Before  the  last  camp-follower  was  gone, 
The  doves  returned  and  took  up  their  abode 
In  the  main  gate  of  those  deserted  walls. 
And  in  their  custody  this  "  Gate  of  Peace  " 
Bears  still  the  grandeur  of  its  origin, 
Firing  anew  the  wistful  hearts  of  men 
To  brave  endeavor  with  replenisiied  hope, 
Though  since  that  time  three  hundred  years  ago, 
The  magic  hush  of  those  forsaken  streets 
And  empty  courtyards  has  been  undisturbed 
Save  by  the  gentle  whirring  of  grey  wings, 
With  cooing  murmurs  uttered  all  day  long, 
And  reverent  tread  of  those  from  near  and  far, 
Who  still  pursue  the  immemorial  quest. 


n 


E'  f.; 


THE    TIVELFTH  NIGHT  STAR 

TT  is  the  bitter  time  of  year 
*■     When  iron  is  the  ground, 
With  hasp  and  sheathing  of  black  ice 
The  forest  laices  are  bound, 
The  world  lies  snugly  under  snow, 
Asleep  without  a  sound. 

All  the  night  long  in  trooping  squares 

The  sentry  stars  go  by, 

The  silent  and  unwearying  hosts 

That  bear  man  company. 

And  with  their  pure  enkindling  fires 

Keep  vigils  lone  and  high. 

Through  the  dead  hours  before  the  dawn. 
When  the  frost  snaps  the  sill. 
From  chestnut-wooded  ridge  to  sea 
The  earth  lies  dark  and  still. 
Till  one  great  silver  planet  shines 
Above  the  eastern  hill. 

It  is  the  star  of  Gabriel, 
The  herald  of  the  Wore 
In  days  when  messengers  of  Gud 
With  sons  of  men  conferred. 
Who  brought  the  tidings  of  great  joy 
The  watching  shepherds  heard ; 
76 


THE    TIVELFTH  MGHT  STAR 

The  mystic  light  that  moved  to  lead 

The  wise  of  long  ago, 

Out  of  the  great  East  where  they  dreamed 

Of  truths  they  could  not  know, 

To  seek  some  good  that  should  assuage 

The  world's  most  ancient  woe. 

O  well,  believe,  they  loved  their  dream, 

Those  children  of  the  star. 

Who  saw  the  light  and  followed  it. 

Prophetical,  afar, — 

Brave  Caspar,  clear-eyed  Melchior, 

And  eager  Balthasar. 

Another  year  slips  to  the  void. 
And  still  with  omen  bright 
Above  the  sleeping  doubting  world 
The  day-star  is  alight, — 
The  waking  signal  flashed  of  old 
In  the  blue  Syrian  night. 

But  who  are  now  as  wise  as  they 
Whose  faith  could  read  the  sign 
Of  the  three  gifts  that  shall  suffice 
To  honor  the  divine, 
And  show  the  trend  of  common  life 
Ineffably  benign? 

77 


THE    TWELFTH  NIGHT  STAR 

Whoever  wakent  on  a  day 
Happy  to  know  and  be, 
To  enjoy  the  air,  to  love  hit  kind, 
To  labor,  to  be  free, — 
Already  his  enraptured  muI 
Lives  in  eternity. 

For  him  with  every  rising  sun 
The  year  begins  anew; 
The  fertile  earth  receives  her  lord. 
And  prophecy  comes  true, 
Wondrously  as  a  fall  of  snow. 
Dear  as  a  drench  of  dew. 

Who  gives  his  life  for  beauty's  need. 

King  Caspar  could  no  more; 

Who  serves  the  truth  with  single  ' -'nd 

Shall  stand  with  Melchior; 

And  love  is  all  that  Balthasar 

In  crested  censer  bore. 


78 


